


Spin Cycle

by hearthope



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Laundromat, M/M, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 02:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15500781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearthope/pseuds/hearthope
Summary: Thursday nights are quiet and peaceful and consist of just Keiji, the tired student working the desk, and Bokuto Koutarou.Over late nights at the corner laundromat, Akaashi Keiji falls in love.





	Spin Cycle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mochajelled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochajelled/gifts).



> part one of two!!  
> I...had quite a few ideas on what to write, and when this ended up shorter than I really expected, I kind of ended up with two for you? I really really hope you enjoy them both!!!♡♡

Thursday nights, Keiji has discovered, are the best nights to do laundry. In the hours between eleven and three, the corner laundromat is always at least mostly empty, and quiet enough that Keiji can hear himself think. There isn’t the usual stream of people that drop in during the week before dinner, or come in on weekends. It’s just Keiji, the tired student working the desk, and the gentle _shush_ of the washing machines cycling.

 

He used to pass the time waiting for his laundry to finish by grading papers and planning lessons. And in part, he still does. He sorts his laundry between two of the washing machines, settles on one of the benches that backs the long stretch of window facing the empty street, and gets through a small handful of assignments. Four or five on a good night.

 

But then the door swings open, the bell chiming and breaking through the fuzzy 80s music playing through tinny overhead speakers. And in walks what has become, somewhere along the line, the primary reason Keiji has stuck to these nights at the laundromat. Thursday nights are quiet and peaceful and consist of just Keiji, the tired student working the desk, and Bokuto Koutarou.

 

Bokuto is always far more awake than anyone has the right to be so late at night, and his voice always a little louder than it ought to be in an enclosed space. He’s always like this, Keiji knows, and has known, since he moved into the apartment down the hall from him. It’s impossible not to notice his presence when he’s around, even before he’s spoken a word. There’s something about him that’s just . . . _magnetic._ At the very least, he manages to keep drawing Keiji in closer.

 

It should be embarrassing, that as soon as Bokuto’s in the door, Keiji is tucking his work back into his folder and straightening up in his seat. It only takes Bokuto a minute to dump all his laundry into one machine and get it started, and then he’s hopping up to sit on top of whichever one is directly across from Keiji, a broad grin stretched across his face.

 

“Hey hey, Akaashi!”

 

When Bokuto smiles, it’s essentially impossible not to return the gesture.

 

“Hello, Bokuto-san. How are you?”

 

Prior to these nights, Keiji hadn’t spoken much to him. Small greetings if they passed each other in the hall, lending him an egg one afternoon when he was attempting to bake. But when it came down to it, Bokuto was just Keiji’s neighbor — Keiji’s admittedly attractive neighbor, that Konoha likes to make fun of him over as if _he_ hasn’t been completely obvious about making eyes at Bokuto’s roommate.

 

But Bokuto hadn’t been anything to Keiji. He didn’t even know his name until he’d been living there for nearly a month. And then he came into the laundromat, during Keiji’s usual night alone.

 

“Oh _man,_ Akaashi, I’ve had the _longest day,”_ Bokuto says. His arms swing in wide gestures when he speaks, his body just as loud as the rest of him. “The chicks started hatching today, and, like, I knew it was going to be a really big deal and everything, and that it was going to be a lot of work to make sure they were all okay and all, but _geez._ It’s exhausting. It’s scary hatching chicks, y’know!”

 

“I’m sure,” Keiji says with a nod. “Did it all go okay?”

 

“Well, yeah!” Bokuto says. “I mean, c’mon, it’s me!” He laughs, a bright and familiar sound.

 

He’s a librarian. A children’s librarian. And he loves his job more than anything, Keiji knows. It’s quite possibly what he spends the most time talking about while they sit together. There’s always some sort of story to be told, be it regarding crafts he’s thinking about doing for weekly story time, or the children’s department’s latest endeavor of hatching chicks. Something to do with a life cycle program they’re doing.

 

Keiji is perfectly content to listen to every last word.

 

“You should’ve seen Oikawa’s face, though. He couldn’t calm down for a second. I don’t know how he’s going to handle the next few days that they’re still hatching. But hey, maybe it won’t be so bad! Now that we’ve gone through the first couple! Hey, Akaash’, y’wanna see some pictures?”

 

“I’d love to, thank you.”

 

Bokuto’s eyes light with the rest of his smile, and he drops off the washing machine so he can sit right beside Keiji. This is another thing Keiji has learned about his neighbor: he has pictures of everything. Flowers he passes on his way to work, the city skyline during the sunset, his roommate Kuroo and his cat. A lot of them are half-blurred in Bokuto’s excitement to capture the image.

 

He leans in close to Keiji, his shoulder a solid weight against Keiji’s arm. Bokuto holds his phone right between them, pulled up to a too-close image of a little chick, half-crawled out of the egg, its feathers still wet and matted to its skin. It’s not a very pretty thing, but Bokuto’s looking at it with shining eyes and Keiji feels a smile pulling at his lips. He tries to focus his attention back on the phone.

 

Bokuto swipes to another picture, of the chick fully out and likely attempting to stand, this one from slightly further back. He shows Keiji image after image, and by the end, there are four wet, awful-looking chicks in the incubator, and likely more still to come from the eggs around them.

 

“They’ve gotta stay in there ’til they’re all dry and fluffy,” Bokuto tells him. “It’s bad for them if you take ‘em out ’n’ move them too soon.”

 

“You seem to be taking great care of them, Bokuto-san,” Keiji says. “I’m sure they’ll be perfectly fine.”

 

Bokuto looks pleased by Keiji’s words, gleaming under the praise. “I sure hope so, ‘Kaashi! How was your day, huh?”

 

The night drags on, the conversation slipping smoothly into topic after topic. Bokuto does most of the talking, but he listens intently when Keiji speaks. It’s comfortable and easy and Keiji enjoys these nights more than just about anything else. It’s a familiar routine by now.

 

At the start, it was different. Their conversations always cut short, before Keiji’s laundry was even ready to be moved into a drier, and it was typically all small talk. But Bokuto was restless, and it wasn’t long before his endlessly shaking leg and tapping fingers turned into mindless chatter accompanied with wild gestures and a laugh like the sun.

 

While the broader aspects of their relationship still remain housed in the laundromat, they’re both a lot friendlier, much more talkative when they see each other around their building. It’s left Keiji with no shortage of grief, with Konoha’s relentless taunts, but it’s worth it.

 

He likes Bokuto. More than he ever truly expected to.

 

Some nights, as he watches Bokuto swing his legs up on the washing machine and listens to him talk on about conch shells, Keiji ponders what exactly this _means._

 

* * *

 

There are nights, now and again, where Bokuto is more subdued. His eyes tired, hair hanging soft and loose in his face, two different sweatshirts pulled on. His movements are all at a honey drip’s pace, and all his words come out soft. Those nights, it feels like Keiji does more of the talking, and Bokuto is happy to listen. It’s become comfortable. Relaxing.

 

On one of these nights, Bokuto drops directly into the empty space beside Keiji as soon as he’s started his laundry, rests his head on his shoulder without comment, and asks if Keiji has any interesting stories from the week.

 

Keiji talks. At some point, Bokuto falls asleep. Keiji doesn’t wake him. Instead, he marks up a few more of his students’ papers, answers texts from Konoha and Yukie. Bokuto only stirs when Keiji has to move both their clothes into driers, and he’s back to leaning against him moments later.

 

He doesn’t fall back asleep, though. He stays awake to listen to Keiji talk about the lesson he’s covering in his literature class, and the book his students are reading. Through it all, Keiji thinks, what this means is: somewhere along the way, he’s developed feelings.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Akaashi, are you going to do laundry?”

 

Bokuto catches Keiji right as he’s leaving his apartment, laundry basket in his arms, his work bag slung across his shoulders. He looks like he’s just gotten back from the gym.

 

Keiji nods, and Bokuto grins. “You wanna go together? I just gotta grab my basket, hang on.”

 

He doesn’t wait for Keiji’s actual answer before entering his own apartment. Not that Keiji really minds. In the last couple months they’ve been meeting at the laundromat, they’ve never actually gone together. Bokuto’s generally not around, Keiji’s found, when he’s leaving. Sometimes he wonders if he ever actually sleeps, with how often he’s out.

 

Bokuto comes back out a moment later, in fresh clothes, carrying his own laundry. He’s already starting in on telling Keiji about this week’s story time craft by the time they’ve stepped into the elevator.

 

The street outside is nearly entirely empty. A couple cars pass as they make their way down the block, but other than that, it’s just Keiji and Bokuto and the stray cats lurking in the alleyways. Bokuto walks with long strides, a lightness in every step, and his words fill the empty night. The street lights fall in a soft haze over him, and in the dim glow, his eyes light in gold.

 

Keiji can’t bring himself to look away. Bokuto Koutarou, a magnetic force.

 

“Y’know, Akaash’, I was thinking,” Bokuto says as he pulls the laundromat door open. He holds it, letting Keiji in first.

 

“Oh?” Keiji says, glancing back over his shoulder. “Trying something new?”

 

Bokuto frowns, but only manages to hold it until the door swings closed behind him before his smile breaks back out. _“Akaashiiii._ I was being serious!”

 

Keiji’s lips turn up. “I apologize, Bokuto-san. Please, continue.”

 

“I know you’re not sorry,” Bokuto says, a cheerful lilt in his voice. He sets his basket on top of one of the washing machines and turns to face Keiji. “I was _thinking:_ we oughta do something outside here sometime, huh? I only see you when I come in to do laundry!”

 

“And in our apartment building, Bokuto-san,” Keiji points out. He couldn’t force his smile away if he wanted to. “I saw you just yesterday when I was getting my mail.”

 

“You’re the worst, Akaash’,” Bokuto huffs. He starts tossing his laundry into the machine, but keeps stealing glances towards Keiji. Keiji hasn’t even bothered to start sorting his laundry yet. “I’m _trying_ to ask if you want to, like, I don’t know, get _lunch_ or something sometime! It’s kinda backwards, you know,” he says, halting to look hard at Keiji, “that I’ve seen your _underwear_ before we’ve even been on a _date.”_

 

Bokuto fully freezes in his actions then, color slowly rising to his face. Like he can’t quite comprehend the words that came out of his own mouth. Keiji can’t really, either, and in the shock and disbelief, all he can do is laugh.

 

It’s fully involuntary, choked giggles slipping past his lips before he can stop it, and Bokuto only gets more red.

 

_“Akaashi!”_

 

Keiji looks away, knowing that his reaction isn’t helping anything Bokuto is likely to be feeling. “I’m— I’m sorry, Bokuto-san.” He tries to stifle his laughter, but it still comes out in his voice as he continues, “I don’t mean to laugh. I just wasn’t expecting— Your _face_.”

 

Bokuto lets out an exaggerated wail, burying his face in his hands. “You can just say no, you know,” he mumbles.

 

“I don’t want to say no, Bokuto-san.” Keiji leans against the washing machine and waits for Bokuto to pull his hands back down. He barely meets Keiji’s eyes, but it’s something. “You caught me off guard is all. I would very much like a date.”

 

Bokuto’s smile slowly starts building back. “You mean it?”

 

“I mean it.”

 

“Really, Akaashi!” His eyes light up and his hands dart out to grab both of Keiji’s. “Oh, man, it’s gonna be great, y’know! Really!”

 

“And then you’re allowed to see my underwear?”

 

Bokuto’s face falls in feigned hurt. Keiji’s laughter bubbles back up. It doesn’t take long before Bokuto joins him.


End file.
